Last night I had difficulty getting to sleep after reading the first 10 chapters of "The Kite Runner." It's an amazing book that so far has been set in a changing Afghanistan. There are horrible things, great and small: Cowardice, friendship, violence, expectation. I can't wait to finish it.
Then I had a crazy nightmare in which I and a few others, while driving back from Poynter, got held up in a gas station. The gas station was some sort of third-world station, though, with toilets but no stalls and just one phone line. Anyway, the guy had a gun and we all chased him out with automotive supplies. He agreed to leave but said he was going to be back. So we were held hostage in this third-world gas station, waiting for him to come back and kill us. I'm sure it's because of my feelings about being sick and the reading before bed. I'm also sure it's because of the construction going on on our neighbors' house, which I believe will take about as long as the war on drugs. For months, it's been bang bang bang and a constant string of hits from the 80s, 90s and today. These guys even work on holidays and weekends. At least they've stopped cursing, which bothers me more than I thought it might, at 8 in the morning.
Then I woke up, for the fifth day in a row, with pain in my belly and lower back. I'm afraid it might be something with my kidneys, but it might just be the way I'm sleeping, also.
We were going to go to Bobbywood tonight, a restaurant we'd heard a lot about from friends. But we found out it's closed on Monday. Jeffrey said, well, we can go next week. And I was like, NEXT WEEK!? We're going to wait another week??? And he said, no. And as I got more and more impatient (wait for it) ... he got down on one knee and asked me. And I said yes. And so we're getting married.